Time
by NattiKay
Summary: As an old Inuyasha is left seemingly alone with his memories, someone stops by to reach out.


He could remember when she first brought that infernal contraption back to their home. The "camera".

The concept, at first, had been foreign to him. It was a technology far beyond his native era, being able to point that strange little rectangle in any direction, push a little button, and get a little snapshot of time, and instant painting. It was odd, bewildering, and, perhaps, a little fascinating.

But, as with all things from Kagome's time, he'd eventually adjusted to it, and as he browsed the walls of his quiet little hut, chock full of old photos taken by that odd little machine, he was infinitely grateful towards his mother-in-law for insisting that his wife took one back with them.

Slowly he paced along the rows of pictures, as had been a habit as of late. He watched and re-watched their progression, recalling the memories imbedded in each one. He watched his wife as her hair, once a dark and vibrant raven, dull and then lighten until it matched his own powdery white. He watched each of their children, once so tiny and helpless, grow up, get married, and have children of their own.

When he reached the end of the wall, he paused. There was one image that camera had taken that was missing from this wall. He had never been able to put it up.

He reached an old bony hand into his robe and pulled out the photo. It was of him and his wife, their identically wrinkled faces smiling into the camera as their daughter snapped the shot. It was curious, he thought. Even as her hair dulled and features decayed, her eyes had never lost that warm loving glow.

A feeble finger traced the edges of the old woman's face. This was the last photo he'd ever gotten with her. That was three years ago, now.

A light knocking came at the door. Inuyasha turned an ear towards it, but did not answer vocally. After a moment, the visitor slipped in anyways.

"Hey, old man."

Inuyasha turned and smirked at his son. The boy's long black hair, worn in a ponytail, now sported streaks of gray, and there were slight wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.

"Not lookin' so young yourself, kid," he teased. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, come on, now! Do I need a reason to visit my dad?" asked the boy, smiling lightly. Then, more seriously, "…I wanted to be sure you were all right. I hear you don't leave this place much anymore."

Inuyasha broke his son's gaze and shrugged, twitching an ear.

"What reason do I have to do so?" he rasped quietly.

The boy did not answer.

After a moment's silence, Inuyasha began to pace down the wall again, back towards the older pictures.

"Michi, do you remember, when you were just a boy and you used to climb all those trees? You thought no one could reach you there. But I always could."

Michi gave a small smile at the memory.

"Yes, I remember."

"And do you remember how Yukimi was always having after you, and you would run away? You hated it. She drove you nuts, when you were kids. But I guess her persistence payed off in the end."

"I suppose so. But we didn't really get together until she backed off a bit. I hadn't seen her in years when we met up again, remember?"

"Yes, yes," droned the old hanyou. "How is she, anyways?"

"Yuki? She's fine. As radiant as ever."

"And the kids?"

"Doing well. We think Chiyou's finally found a boyfriend. Took a while, but he's a nice kid. They're talking about getting married, now."

Inuyasha shook his head incredulously. Chiyou was not his youngest grandchild, but she was Michi's youngest daughter, and for some reason, the idea of her getting married made him feel startlingly old…even though both the girl's siblings already had families of their own.

It still made his head spin that he'd managed to live long enough to meet his great-grandchildren.

"Time," he whispered. "It's such a funny thing. Fifty years on the tree. Five hundred between birth, and hers. The well, the time-travel well, through which she came to me. Three without her."

He paused to take a shuddering breath before continuing.

"Those three years, when she was gone, they were the longest of my life, you know. And I've been through some tough crap. But those years, they seemed to stretch on and on forever. And yet, they were only three. How could they have felt so long when the past fifty, at least, have gone by so quickly?

"And now, three without her once more. It's so strange."

Inuyasha stopped a moment to gaze into his son's eyes, tried yellow into deep indigo.

"Cherish your time with Yuki, Michi," he said earnestly. "Cherish your time with Hana and Keitaro and Chiyou and their families. With your siblings and nieces and nephews. It really goes by so fast."

Michi put a comforting arm on his father's thin back.

"I will, Dad. I _do_ ". But I want to cherish my time with you, too."

Inuyasha shook his head.

"Nah, don't worry about me. I probably don't got much time left, anyhow."

"All the more reason to maximize what I've got," Michi insisted.

As Inuyasha looked at his son, he felt something break. Not something physical, nor something dangerous. He felt an inner wall crumble, a facade. He no longer felt the need to act strong around his son.

The boy understood.

Inuyasha cried. He cried tears of sadness for what he had lost, and happiness for what he still had. He cried tears of yearning for the eternity he would have when his time here was up, and eternity with the one he held so dear, who he had lost twice now for intervals of three years.

For then, and only then, time would be unable to touch them.

.

 **a/n**  
For more on the InuKag family as alluded to in this fic, check out my **Adventures of Tomorrow** collection.


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